Stuck On You
by ShatteredRhapsody
Summary: *HIATUS* Four women and four Knights. All are similar in some ways. Lancelot is screwed...in more ways than one. And there's no way in Hell that these ladies are gonna let the Knights die. Full summary inside. Multiple pairings. CHAPTER 3 BABY!
1. Meeting

**A/N: I loved this movie and now I'm writing about it. P**

**Summary: Four best friends, each of them of foreign descent are torn apart by time and reunited by slavery. The only way to gain their freedom is to take on a suicidal mission alongside Arthur and the Sarmatian Knights. But honestly, putting together four hormone-crazed women and some hot Knights can only mean one thing: Just who will be stuck on whom?**

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The carriage was cramped with passengers; four young women clad in roman gowns. The cloth was poor, signifying that they were not of noble birth. Then again, the shackles that bound them from escaping were a dead give away. Three of them sat on a bench while their leader, whose neck was clasped in iron, sat on the floor.

"So," one woman with shoulder-length chestnut hair began, "does anyone else think it's crazy that we were sent back in time, trained to be warriors, had our mentors and foster families slaughtered, got enslaved by the Bishop from the movie King Arthur, and are now on the way to Hadrian's Wall to meet said King Arthur?"

"He's not king yet, Seda. And no, I don't think it's crazy." This one had auburn hair, the same shade as autumn leaves that fell to her elbows. Her green eyes were narrowed with suppressed anger. "It's a fucking nightmare."

"Aw, come one, Roz. It's not that bad. At least we're together again." She was blond, her curly locks tied at the back in a sloppy bun. She rubbed at her chafed wrists and sighed. "I wish we had some aloe. These shackles are killing me." Her sky-blue eyes gazed down at their oldest on the floor. Her sight trailed from the long black braid that rested on the floor to the dark chocolate eyes seething with hatred. "Nenet, do—"

"Hey, Rosalyn?" Seda shifted in her seat, charcoal eyes scanning the landscape from behind the window. She adjusted her green dress so that she could sit up. "I think we're being attacked by the Blue Man Group."

"Huh? Where?" There was a shuffling sound as Rosalyn tripped over her red dress in an effort to see. She landed on the blond and chuckled, "Sorry, Demi. Bloody dresses. They're so fucking irritating. I feel naked under this thing!"

"Well, actually, we _are_ naked—" Demi suddenly screamed and pushed Rosalyn and Seda against the opposite wall, successfully tipping the carriage onto its side. "Holy shit! The blue men tried to kill us!"

Her companions were oblivious to her statement since Rosalyn was under Seda and Nenet was on her back beside them. A scattered array of thuds hit the carriage and an arrow grazed Demi's arm. Nenet was on her feet in an instant. "Get up. Seda, Rosalyn." They scrambled to their feet and stood at her side.

Demi ripped off a small strip of her blue gown and wrapped it around the wound. "I'm fine, Nenet. But our weapons…" They all knew where it was kept. But how would they be able to..?

"Heathens!"

The Bishop's voice was near the carriage and a clattering against the wood of said carriage had their attention. A bundle of weapons land at their feet; Nenet wasted no time in retrieving her mentor's sword. The others followed her example and waited for her to give the command.

"We move together, understood?" She glanced at Seda who twirled the twin blades in her hands, then to Rosalyn who had a long sword in her hand. Demi had a short sword but that didn't worry her. No, she knew that the little blond had a wide variety of throwing knives hidden in that dress of hers.

"Understood."

"I'm all set."

"Whenever you're ready, Boss Lady."

She rolled her eyes. "Seda quit being a smartass. Let's go." She vaulted out of the carriage, her friends right behind her. They stepped into a circle of Woads and hesitated a second before executing every single one of them.

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Arthur and his Knights were surprised to see a group of women cutting down Woads beside a fallen carriage. But what really shocked them was the way they moved. Each of their fighting style was different, as though they trained from different parts of the world.

Galahad had just finished off a Woad when he heard a yelp of pain. His gaze caught sight of a petite woman whose blond hair was being pulled by a Woad. There was a knife at her throat and he could see that she was injured. He rushed to her aid, beheading the blue devil and remained at her side to fend off the remaining foes.

Gawain was in the midst of battle when he heard an annoyed, "Hey!" aimed in his direction. A woman with fiery brown hair held the axe he had thrown moments before and hurled it past his own head and into the chest of a woad. He mouthed a thank you to her, but she had already turned her back on him.

Lancelot was mesmerized by the woman in green. She fought with two swords just as he did, but she was also expressing her emotions quite verbally.

"God dammit!"

"Why, you sneaky son of a…"

"Move along, chubby!"

He found himself laughing at her choice of expletives. Whoever she was, she was very entertaining.

Tristan's perspective was much more observant than the others. His eyes were trained on the woman whose skin was a light bronze and who fought with such accuracy and grace that the word beautiful came to mind. He watched as she received a low punch to the ribs and went down on both knees. The woad above her moved to behead her with his axe when she withdrew a dagger from her boot and threw it right up through her enemy's chin. But her breathing was labored and it took the help of her companions to bring her to her feet.

The battle ended quickly. While Arthur was showing mercy to a woad, a Roman soldier rode over to the women and grabbed the main chain that held them all together.

"What a bloody mess." Bors told Arthur who frowned in return. "That's not the Bishop…" His frown deepened as he walked over to the women. He didn't like what he was seeing. Or hearing.

"Please, Bishop. My arm—"

"It is only a minor injury, Athenian."

"But we are out of salve—Aah!"

He grabbed her by the hair, her shackled wrists raised as she grabbed his hand. "I've kept you alive, haven't I? Such a small wound won't affect your immediate health." He released her so that she stumbled onto her friends.

"Nenet, don't…"The Egyptian clad in a black roman gown had her sword at the Bishop's throat in a second. "All we ask for, your eminence is some salve for her arm. I'm sure that it wouldn't be a stressful task."

He moved to strike her, but Arthur stepped in and caught the Bishop's arm. "I'm disappointed, Bishop, that not only would you enslave women to fight, but you would keep them chained and restricted to such limited movement."

The Bishop chuckled nervously, "Ah, Arthur! You misunderstand. These are gifts given to me by their native leaders. They are only chained because they are harmful to themselves and wouldn't hesitate to harm others if given the chance."

Seda, who was kneeling beside Demi, glared up at him. "You treat us like animals, Bishop. I doubt you were expecting us to be your domestic pets." Rosalyn managed to remove Nenet's blade from the Bishop's throat and put her two-cents in. "Isn't there something in the Bible about slaves being freed? About how the high and mighty would be nothing without its slaves—oh, excuse me—I mean people?"

Arthur's lips twitched as he fought back the urge to smile. "Your 'gifts' seem to be quite intelligent, Bishop. I'm afraid I can't let you through unless you remove their shackles. Don't you agree, Knights?"

They all nodded in agreement and even Tristan bore a superior smile. They watched in amusement as the Bishop grumbled for a minute before he ordered his men to release the women.

The Knights couldn't deny the shock and anger they felt at the sight of the bruised and chafed skin. The women ignored their stares and moved to help their injured friend. Their dark-skinned leader stayed behind, for the Bishop leaned down and caught her collarbone in a bone-crushing grip. The only notion that it hurt was the way she winced and averted her eyes. Tristan didn't like the way her eyes widened before she was shoved to the ground. Just what did the Bishop say to frighten her so?

Nenet was trembling. With fear or excitement, she couldn't tell. She refused to acknowledge the fear, but the excitement quickly became anxiety.

"_I've decided a better end for you and your heathen friends. Finally, I shall be rid of you shameful pagans."_

What did he mean, she wondered as Arthur knelt to help her up.

"Lady, how do you fair?"

Such compassion shown in his eyes that she managed a heartfelt smile that vanished as fast as it came. "Tired, Arthur Castus. I am so very tired, yet full of happiness." As she took his hand to stand, she whispered into his ear, "We have been slaves for many months. Thank you for giving us a taste of freedom." She stumbled back into a solid, fleshy wall. Tilting her head back, she caught sight of dark, obsidian eyes and two tribal tattoos before everything went black.

Rosalyn stepped in before Arthur could freak out. "Don't worry about Nenet. She hasn't slept in days." She lowered her voice as the Bishop retired to his carriage. "he takes his anger out on her the most because she always tries to kill him when he beats the rest of us." She said it matter-of-factly, as though their hellish six months as slave of Rome was more a walk in the park.

"And you are?" Arthur was genuinely curious.

She blinked then did a small curtsy. "Rosalyn, Sir. As I've said before, that's Nenet. Seda is the one in green and Demi is the one who's injured. I hope it isn't too much to ask but…" Her eyes flicked to the Bishop's carriage then to the other Knights.

The Roman Commander understood perfectly. "Of course, Lady Rosalyn. Your friends may ride with my Knights. Tristan." He looked to his Scout, who shifted the woman in his arms and nodded.

Seda, who was eavesdropping, ran over to Lancelot. "I'm riding with him!" When he smirked down at her, she felt her insides melt. "Tell me this, Sir Knight. Which horse is yours so I know which to ride," Her voice came out as a silken purr and he chuckled.

"The black one. Are you sure that it is my horse you wish to ride?" Her knees almost buckled as his hand at her back guided her to the stallion.

As he seated her on the saddle in front of him, his hands settled on her thighs, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. "Are you implying that there is a more magnificent beast that I should be riding? I don't even know your name." She knew. She just wanted to hear him say it.

His thumbs traced delicate patterns on her very upper thighs as his lips brushed her ear. "I am Lancelot, the most handsome of the Knights. But you, my Lady, may call me _yours_." He nipped the shell of her ear and her back arched against his chest. Gods, he was good.

"For Christ's sake, Seda! You just met the man!" Rosalyn shouted from where she helped Demi onto Galahad's saddle. Her friend gave a wicked grin as she shouted right back, "So? And don't say the Lord's name in vain like that." She tilted her head in the Bishop's direction. "It's blasphemous!"

Lancelot chuckled darkly as he settled her hips closer to his so that he could take the reins. "I can show you the meaning of blasphemy, dearest Lady. A trip to my room should suffice."

From there, Seda was rendered almost speechless, deaf, and damn near blind to anything else. "It sounds promising," she whispered as her hand closed over his in acceptance of his offer.

"Good grief. That girl is a hopeless cause." But as Gawain offered a hand up onto his saddle, Roz sighed. _I'm just as bad as she is._ Giving him her best smile, she thanked him as she was practically seated on his lap. She leaned back against his chest and breathed in his scent. Just that alone had her insides burning with pleasure. Oh no. She wasn't just as bad; she was much, much worse.

"Rosalyn, I doubt you really care about Seda's virtue." Demi wasn't fairing any better. Galahad had one hand on her waist and the other on the reins.

Rosalyn snorted, "Ha. You mean her lack of virtue." Arthur began leading them to the Wall. "But it's not like she cares either." Demi nodded. "Yeah, maybe it's because the Bishop isn't there to punish her for her 'harlot tendencies.' That girl is no more a harlot than she is a proper lady." The two women shared a look of understanding before bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Where did the Bishop find you ladies?" Bors' question destroyed the carefree atmosphere and Demi shrugged. "He took us from some of Rome's conquered lands. I'm from Greece, Rosalyn is from Spain, Seda is from Armenia, and Nenet is from Egypt."

"So Rome has spread its influence farther than I thought." This troubled Arthur. That much land was bound to cause trouble within the Roman government. Too many greedy senators and clergy men running amok. The Bishop was one of them.

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**A/N: Good god that took forever! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Pick a Man

A/N: Wahoo

**A/N: Wahoo! SIX REVIEWS! I love you guys. And to prove it, I'm updating!**

**R&R**

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Nenet was wide awake and enjoying the friendly banter between the Knights. Her friends were also enjoying themselves; especially Seda, who looked like she was about to have an orgasm right there.

"Why don't you just kill him, and discharge yourself?"

"I don't kill for pleasure, unlike some."

That brought forth a round of giggling from Seda, Demi, and Rosalyn. Nenet's eyes glared at them in mock anger and a ghost of a smirk lingered about her lips.

"Well you should try it sometime; you might get a taste for it."

The girls burst out laughing by then and Nenet crossed her arms and sulked against Tristan. "I do _not_ have a killing problem." Her friends only laughed harder.

"Oh, really?" Some of her Spanish lilt entered Rosalyn's tone. "So you don't think that 'disposing' of the center and patrol guard doesn't qualify as a problem?"

Seda snorted, "By herself? Ha. Nets is good, but she's not that good." Realizing what she just said aloud, she stared down at hers and Lancelot's joined hands.

"Not you, too!" Ros scolded her friend and was shocked when Demi spoke. "At least we escaped for a few days. The plan worked."

They all chuckled at the look of outrage on Rosalyn's face. "There was a _plan_? Why wasn't I included?!" Nenet sat up, the top of her head grazing Tristan's chin. "If I remember correctly, you played your part by keeping the Main Guard so intoxicated that they couldn't even move when the alarm was raised."

"And just whose plan was this?" Ros eyed them all suspiciously, then felt her jaw drop at their smug expressions. "No. No, no, no. It wasn't—it couldn't have been…"

Seda's nose crinkled a bit as she playfully sneered, "You? Why, yes my good friend. It was definitely your plan."

Poor Rosalyn was beyond confused. "B-But if it was my idea, why did only _you_ get punished, Nenet?" All eyes turned to the women's leader, who merely shrugged. "I killed the most so it seemed fair enough. It wasn't horrible if that's what you're thinking. My arm was fixed the following day. It was only pulled out of place." Her friends stayed silent; they were never fully aware of the abuse that she saved them from.

Tristan let his horse fall behind the carriage and lifted her right arm. Pulling back the loose sleeve, he gently prodded a small cut. "You're bleeding." He watched in amusement as she looked down. "Am I really? Huh. I didn't even feel it…" Her genuine surprise had him smiling, something he wasn't altogether used to doing.

"Oh, we've fallen behind." She gave the horse a small kick and laughed as Tristan—who, for once, was caught off guard—fell off the horse. She slowed his horse to a slow trot when they were a good five feet apart. She was still chuckling when he rejoined her on the saddle and took the reins from her.

"That was not funny."

His voice was a low growl filled with the promise of revenge. It both scared and excited her. So, against her better judgment, she elbowed him and whispered playfully, "Yes, it was" When he let out a soft grunt.

Seda glanced back at the gruesome twosome and grinned, "They look like they're having fun." She let out a pleasurable sigh as Lancelot wrapped an arm around her waist and whispered all the 'fun' he could to her. In his room. More specifically in his bed in his room.

"Ugh. Get a room, already!" Ros snapped at Seda, who stuck out her tongue in retaliation. Rolling her eyes, she settled herself against Gawain and looked up at his face. She reached up and twirled a lock of his hair around her finger. When he glanced down at her, she smiled and bit back the laugh that was threatening to spill out.

She didn't get how she didn't see it before: Gawain looked a little bit like a hamster. As he kissed her temple, she let a giggle slip through. _Nope. He's more like a gerbil._

Demi shook her head, "She's lost her mind." Just what the hell was Ros laughing about anyway? Had all the fresh Briton air gotten to her? Looking at the way she was playing with Gawain's hair, Demi had to smile. _All that Gawain must have gotten to her._ Her smile froze at the sudden contact of Galahad's teeth nibbling along the nape of her neck.

She sighed, tilting her head so that he gained better access to the fluttering pulse in her neck. He dragged his teeth against the tender area, then left a trail of butterfly kisses along her jaw to place a satisfying kiss upon her lips.

Arthur couldn't help but his smile. These women were good for his Knights. They shared a common bond that most never experienced. His heart saddened at the words Nenet had used: _'a taste of freedom.'_ If this was merely a taste, then it would be cruel to send them back to the Bishop. He couldn't let that happen.

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The women were a success in the Tavern. Roman soldiers tried to grab their attention. Grab, being the keyword was never the best idea. Rosalyn passed a drunken soldier who ensnared her wrist with such brute force that she dropped the ale that was meant for the Knights.

Remembering the still-healing bruises that remained on her wrists, Gawain rose from his seat as anger coursed through him.

"Come here, darling. Spanish wenches are known for their talents with men. Come and give us a kiss." The drunken man yanked her against him, but instead of feeling her soft flesh, he felt the cold edge of a blade pressed against his jugular. Looking up, he saw his death in Gawain's eyes and released Rosalyn.

Seda watched with disgust as another whore approached Lancelot, or more specifically, his lap. If she had a knife on her, then the wench would be dead in seconds. When the bitch moved to kiss Lancelot, Seda moved twice as fast and had the whore head-over-ass sprawled onto the ground.

"How dare you—!"

If looks could kill, then this woman would be dead a thousand times over. The animosity in Seda's glare made the wench almost swallow her tongue. She mumbled a hurried apology and ran out of there.

When Seda rounded on Lancelot, there was a completely different kind of fire in her eyes. Her seductive smile made his pants feel just a tad bit restrictive. Seda patted said pants and leaned in to give him a mind-numbing kiss. His hand tangled itself in her chestnut locks so that when he pulled away, their lips were still a breath apart.

"I am yours, and yours alone, dearest Lady."

She nipped his bottom lip with a wink and a smile. "Good. I'll be back for more." He relaxed with a groan of disappointment. He wanted more _now._

"Tristan. How do you do that?"

"I aim for the middle."

A third knife flew through the air, its blade hacking off a few strands of Tristan's hair before landing on the center of his knife's handle. Nenet walked by him and pulled the knife out. She clucked her tongue in disappointment.

"Such a pity, I missed."

Tristan's left eye twitched for a moment before he took a bite out of his apple. Rather than let anger get the better of him, he paid close attention to the forced smile Nenet was giving. It didn't take a genius to know that something was bothering her.

"Shut up! Vanora will sing!"

"Sing about home!"

"Don't drop the baby!"

"_Land of Bear and land of Eagle_

_Land that gave us Birth and Blessing_

_We will go home across the mountains_

_We will go home, we will go home_

_We will go home across the mountains_

Nenet turned away from the Tavern, fearing which she would hear once Arthur arrived.

_Hear our singing, hear our longing_

_We will go home across the mountains_

_We will go home, we will go home_

_We will go home across the mountains…_

"Arthur!"

"Artorius!"

Her heart was breaking inside her chest as the Knights received the depressing news.

"I am a free man!"

She tuned out their angry voices and ignored the pained stares of her friends. They knew this would happen, but they tried to push it out of their minds.

"My Lady Nenet," She jumped at the sound of Arthur's voice and turned to find him kneeling at her feet. "Forgive me. I tried to free you and your friends as well but in order to do so; the Bishop demanded that you and the others…partake in this mission."

"WHAT?!"

If the Knights tantrum had Arthur feeling guilty, then the ladies' verbal explosion would have made the Bishop jump into his own grave. However, the combined rage of both the women and the Knights would have all of Briton heading for the proverbial hills.

"I'm going to kill him!" Seda tried to rush out of there, but Lancelot held fast and dragged her out to his room. He locked her in before he made his way back to the Tavern.

Demi had slid from the bench to the floor, her eyes wide with shock. Galahad knelt by her side with a worried frown. When her eyes met his, all he saw were deep blue pools of nothing but tears. He gathered her in his arms and left without a word.

Rosalyn never had a chance to rant. Gawain had her pinned to his front, using all of his strength to restrain her without hurting her.

"Why, Arthur? We didn't ask to be saved! Why did you even—" The blade skimmed her shoulder and she fell silent.

"Come on, darling." Gawain led her away from the Tavern to soothe her frazzled nerves.

Tristan didn't move when she threw the knife, but his body was tense while his eyes watched her next move. She reached down to put a hand on Arthur's shoulder. Her hand was trembling, as was the rest of her body, but she kept her voice even.

"There is nothing to forgive. Thank you for trying, Arthur."

She moved to leave and as she passed Lancelot, he stopped to ask her, "Are you alright?"

Her laugh was short and humorless. "Yes, I'm alright. I just have to go kill something."

Alarmed, the three men looked to each other and then back to Nenet, who had already left. Worried, Arthur looked to Tristan, his silent command perfectly clear.

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Nenet should have known this would happen. The Bishop's earlier statement made it obvious. She was wandering down the hall, listening to Seda throw a tantrum through Lancelot's door.

She sighed heavily. "How will we live through this one?"

"You won't."

One of the Bishop's men had her pinned against the wall, his hand crushing her windpipe. She clawed at his face, his arms, anything she could reach.

"Your friends won't survive with you gone." His hand tightened his grip and black spots danced in front of her eyes. Her arms went limp at her sides before she was dropped to the floor. Her lungs labored for air and she blinked rapidly to clear the blurriness of her vision. Strong arms helped her up and carried her to a different room.

"It was foolish of you to go wondering by yourself." Tristan chastised her in a low voice. He brought her to his room and gently placed her on his bed. She was still shaking. Her hands trembled as she brought them to her face and wiped away her tears. She wasn't sobbing at all; she was just crying silent tears.

Unsure of how to handle an emotional woman, Tristan got onto the bed beside her. Using the sleeve of his tunic, he gently wiped away her tears. Her eyes flicked over to his gaze, dark chocolate pools that reflected her sorrow. Tristan felt his heart clench in pain, an unusual feeling of dread swept over him. He kept his face blank while he analyzed his emotions.

He felt…sympathy towards her. The only time he ever felt sympathy was when a fellow knight was put to rest up on Badon Hill. He didn't like it. This sympathy would bring out all the other emotions he had suppressed for years. Being a natural born killer, he was used to feeling his more primitive emotions. Except anger and fear. Those two emotions had no place in his heart.

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While Tristan was sorting through his feelings, the Fates above were practically rolling about with laughter. The fool had not yet considered the feeling of love. Love was lodged deeply within his soul the minute he laid eyes on Nenet. She would be his savior whether he liked it or not.

The same went for Lancelot. Seda would never let him perish without her. Oh, yes. The Knights and their women would have a very secure, yet hectic, life ahead of them.

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Nenet sniffled as she drowned herself in shame. Damn the Bishop for putting her off-guard and sending his men after her. _Idiot!_ She cursed herself in an effort to reign in some motivation. She failed horribly at the attempt and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Thank you, Tristan. I'm sorry that I bothered you." She got up off the bed and headed for the door, craving the solitude of her own room. She opened the door and was about to open it when it slammed shut.

She stiffened at the feel of Tristan caging her in. One hand was on the door and the other rested on her hip. What was he doing?

The hell if he knew. One minute he's watching her open the door and the next, he was standing behind her with his hand preventing her from escaping.

"Don't leave this room."

He was surprised at the raw intensity that filled his voice. Almost embarrassed, he lowered his tone to its usual growl-like pitch. "The Bishop's men might be waiting for you. You'll be safer in here." He spoke into her ear, his lips barely skimmed her skin, but he was rewarded with the shudder that wracked her body and the gasp of pleasure that escaped her lips. So she was affected like he was, then? Interesting.

The hand at her hip traveled upwards, his palm gently slid over the swell of her breast then rested on her shoulder. He was delighted with the small moan she tried to stop.

"Stay."

His whisper brought chills to her skin. Did he know what his voice was doing to her? She had to use every ounce of discipline she had not to swoon right there. She turned to face him.

…and found his gaze heated with raw desire.

Speech was impossible. All she could do was nod in agreement. He smiled then, a quick triumphant smirk that vanished in a blink of an eye. If she was like Seda—and thank the Gods she wasn't—she would have been drooling a waterfall and on her knees begging him to take her.

He led her back to his bed and she slipped under the covers without question. Her earlier emotions were numb; this new feeling was exhilarating. She didn't quite trust him, but her body's reaction to his smoldering stares said otherwise.

Tristan got in beside her, taking pleasure in the wary look in her eyes. She had the same look of a wolf sizing up its opponent. If she chose to strike, he would gladly welcome the challenge.

"Don't look so worried. I give you my word that you'll be safe tonight."

Her eyes narrowed for a nanosecond before they closed as sleep claimed her. He let himself indulge in a sly grin before wrapping his arms around her.

Of course she would be safe tonight. From the Bishop's men, yes. But was she safe from the man who held her so possessively?

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**A/N: Oh my God, that took forever!! But yippee! It's a good second chapter right?**

**Oh and belated disclaimer: I don't own King Arthur or any of its characters except my own. **


	3. Declaration of War sort of

**A/N: Good God…how long has it been?**

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Seda was on the warpath. She did _not_ agree with being locked in Sir Sexy-Pants' room! _Especially,_ after the little stunt he pulled. If that flirtatious prick wanted some tonight, he was in for a surprise.

Yeah, she'd probably give him some anyway.

It was just her personality. Sure, she could hold him off with a few well-placed threats and witty comebacks, but all he had to do was show as much as _one_ sign of dominating her and she would be gone. And that would be in a seriously good way.

She sat on his bed, fingers plucking at the thin blanket while she waited for his return. _He better come back soon, dammit!_ She needed someone to vent her anger out on. And who better than the cause of her anger?

She was so caught up on the idea of revenge that she was more than surprised when Lancelot kicked open the door and strode in. Actually, she almost screamed and used the force of her surprise to jump to her feet and glare at him. Her super-death-glare-of-doom had little to no effect on the man.

Lancelot didn't want to deal with her fit of anger. As if _she _had a reason to be upset. _She_ wasn't the one who was taken from her home and forced to fight for Rome. **(A/N: Boy, he sure is an idiot…)**

"Either get in the bed or get out." His voice was pitched low, his eyes blazing with rage. His little "talk" with Arthur completely made him forget about the furious woman locked in his room. Although seeing her just as angry as him, made his loins stir just a bit.

"_Excuse me?"_ She shrieked indignantly. She shoved him as hard as she could, making him stumble back just a little. "_You're_ the one who locked me in here! _You're_ the one who wouldn't let me argue earlier, and _you're_ the one who's forgetting that I'm just as upset as you are!" Hands on her hips, she was ready to smack some sense into him.

Lancelot felt guilty at that point. He had completely forgotten how similar both their situations were. Breathing in deeply, he sighed. "I'm sorry…" he mumbled and gently shut the door behind him. "You don't have to leave."

Now we all know that Seda could've acted just as mature as Lancelot, but that just wasn't her style.

"You're damn right I don't have to leave! Honestly, what were you _thinking_ locking me up in here? If I had something sharp on me, you would be bald and missing some serious reproductive organs!" Seda snapped with agitation. Yes, she knew she was being just a little juvenile but really…could you blame her?

Lancelot's anger came right on back. He had no idea what she was implying, but he knew it wasn't nice. "I was_ thinking_ that you were about to do something rash and that you and everyone else would be safer if I locked you up!"

"Oh, _everyone else?_ Are you implying that I'm some kind of monster?!" Her voice pitch went up another notch and even Mr. Dark and Brooding had to wince. Something in her voice made him want to take back a few of his words. Sure, he knew that their situations were similar, but he had no clue about her past. He only knew that she was taken from her land of origin and forced to fight. And he knew how vicious the Romans could be towards foreigners. But it must have been worse, considering she was a woman.

"You know what? Forget I even said anything." Damn. She really did let his words get to her. She was fighting back tears. _Stupid, stupid Seda!_ She brushed by him as she reached for the door handle.

"I'm sorry," his hands rested on her shoulders, his lips brushing her crown. Bringing back his bad-boy charm, he amped up the attitude. "You know," he growled, "you can still get back in the bed."

Chills ran down her spine and she flushed from a sudden wave of heat. "I…I sh-should probably j-just leave…" Oh Lord, he had her flustered and as nervous as a virgin. **(A/N: ……Hehehe…)**

"Stay." His hands slid down to her hips and he pulled her lower body flush against his. He bit back a groan when her back arched from the sweet movement.

"Okay."

Seda really was a sucker for hot men.

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And here, Rosalyn thought she had it bad.

…which she _did_.

Gawain was a _very_ smart man. He used a very creative method to keep her mind off the suicidal mission.

He gave her a full body massage.

His warm, rough hands kneaded her sore muscles with such tender care that she almost cried from the simple pleasure. _This man is a God!_ She let out a small moan when his hands rubbed at her sides, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing her breasts.

Rosalyn was the most beautiful woman Gawain had ever laid eyes on. She was so responsive to his touch. He had seriously lucked out if he got the girl with the most sensitive skin. He used his newfound knowledge to the best of his ability.

"How does that feel?"

"Mm…it feels wonderful…" she sighed into his pillow.

"And this?" He breathed against her ear, his hands finding her thighs and parting them with expertise.

"That's just—ah!" His fingers found warm skin and a slick center that had her grabbing handfuls of his bed sheets. "Gawain!" She gasped when he gently flipped her onto her back and pulled off her dress.

"Relax, Rosalyn." His lips played with hers, the fingers inside of her curling ever so slightly so that she arched up off the bed and let out a pleasured shriek.

"I…I can't relax! Not when you're d-doing that!"

He grinned wickedly. Oh, he would have her relaxed. In fact, he'd have them so relaxed that it would be a miracle if they could walk in the morning.

"O-Oh my…Ah! Ahhhhh…ohhhh Gods yessss!"

Gawain chuckled darkly as he left her heated body to pull of his clothes. Nude and ready for some action, he settled his body back on hers and made sweet, _sweet_ love to her.

"HOLY—"

"OH, LANCELOT!"

They both froze. Rosalyn blinked as she stared up into Gawain's eyes. He looked back down at her in shock. It wasn't even a few mere seconds when they heard what sounded like poundings on the wall opposite the bed.

Rosalyn's eyes narrowed and she rolled so that they switched positions. _That's it. This is a declaration of _war_, Seda! _Breathing slowly, she dug her short nails into Gawain's shoulders and by concentrating hard enough, she managed to tighten certain pelvic floor muscles that had Gawain's eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"Like that do you? Well, you're gonna love this." Lifting her hips, she waited until just the tip of him was inside her before forcing herself down on him, her inner muscles tightening so that when she lifted herself again, he was still snug inside her.

Gawain's hands settled on her hips, helping her with her hips' movements. Gods, she was good. She definitely topped the talent charts with that little wiggle she just did.

"Uhh…uhnnn…I—Gawain, I can't…"

"Oh, yes you can." He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, his hips thrusting up with such force that she screeched.

"G-Gawain…I…I feel like…like I…_GAWAIN!"_

Ah, yes. Our good knight certainly earned himself a good night's rest.

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Seda wanted to scream. Damn Rosalyn got the last word during this battle! _Stupid Lancelot…wouldn't let me scream…_ She mentally cursed him while she lay sated on her back. Lancelot was still—amazingly—going. Although his strokes had slowed and he was merely riding out his pleasure high.

"Seda…"

His voice was like gravel, rough and harsh against her ear. She shivered as heat surged through her veins.

"My Goddess, Seda."

Oh, yeah. She could let Rosalyn take the win for this one.

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